Geralt of Rivia

Get out, now.

Geralt said in a serious voice. The order comes from a clean jaw, anger evident in the way his jaw muscles twitch. Goosebumps ripple against your skin, the look in those amber eyes enough to have you ready to run all the way home, but so scared you don't dare move.

I can smell you, don't make me repeat myself.

Geralt growled. Jaskier looked around the small wooded area with confusion creasing his brow.

Geralt, you've officially gone mad.

Jaskier said, but his words are quickly interrupted by the crunching of leaves beneath the leather soles of your boots. Suddenly, he understands Geralt's state of alertness and questions himself for not having heard you sooner. The way you move through the forest is undoubtedly noisy and unskillful. How did you get so far?